


Riding Out The Storm

by plaguewind



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Loss of Virginity, Uncle Pete kink, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 17:24:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12085761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaguewind/pseuds/plaguewind
Summary: So...I started this little one-shot whilst I was trapped inside during Hurricane Irma. I was like gee....what would Petyr and Sansa do to pass the time if they were being forced indoors and getting cabin fever. Anyway....enjoy.





	Riding Out The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Comments appreciated, as always. :)

“This is so boring, I can't stand it. I’m literally about to lose my mind.”

Petyr looked at his seventeen-year-old niece over the top of his book. She was sitting in the arm chair across from his, squirming in her seat, and checking her phone every five minutes. “If you keep using that phone without charging it you’re going to get a lot more bored once the power goes out. Read a book, I have plenty.”

“Who reads anymore?”

“You're right, I imagine your generation wouldn't bother to even learn if not for texting.” She snarled her nose at him but he didn't care, didn't mind at all if he offended her delicate sensibilities. “I don't care what you do, just stop complaining.”

Outside the wind was picking up, the rain coming down harder, and they could see it all through the clear plastic shutters that were covering all of the windows. There was a pretty massive hurricane sitting in the Atlantic, on the way straight toward them, the current conditions being brought in from the outer bands. Petyr imagined his wife's niece, Sansa, had never dreamed coming to stay with her aunt for a few weeks would result in their current situation. No, she likely had fantasies of fun in the sun, beach days, and relaxing in the hammock. Her boyfriend had even planned to come visit her for a few days but that wasn't going to happen, at least not until after the storm had passed. All flights in and out were on hold. 

He said nothing as she got up and plugged her phone into the charger, his eyes merely following her across the room. She was wearing cotton shorts that barely covered her bottom and a spaghetti strap top and he wondered why she wore clothing like that in front of him if she didn't want him looking, and she didn't want him looking, or at least that's what she had told him. What were her exact words again? _Pervert._ Yeah, that's what she had called him when she had noticed him glance at her bottom. He hadn't meant for his eyes to linger but her skirt was so short and she had bent over right in front of him, her ass almost in full view. He was only a man, how could he not look?

“When are Robin and Lysa getting up?” she asked, plopping back down onto the chair.

“No time soon I imagine. She wants to sleep through it and I don't intend to stop her.” Lysa had taken enough Xanax to knock her out even if their house had blown away, and Robin, the spoiled mommy’s boy that he was, would stay in bed with her. 

“What do you wanna do?”

“I want to keep reading my book.”

“Ugh...come on. Amuse me.”

 _What a little cunt._ As if it were his responsibility to keep her occupied. “What would you have me do, Miss Stark?”

She shrugged, tucking a stray strand of perfect, red hair behind her ear. “I dunno. You wanna play a game or something?”

Petyr sighed, closing his book and placed it on the coffee table in front of them. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Fine. What sort of game did you have in mind?”

“Um...naked twister?” she laughed, obviously finding herself hilarious. She'd caught him looking at her ass _once_ and now he supposed she figured he wanted her and meant to taunt him for it.

It was true, he did want her, but he would not be bested by a seventeen-year-old. “I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't have the game,” he answered, unphased.

She shook her head, a sardonic smile on her lips. “I was kidding.”

“I'm aware.”

“Ooook...so what do you wanna play?”

“You tell me, it was your idea, Sweetling.”

“Truth or Dare?”

Truth or Dare. There was a game he hadn't played in years. In truth the only games he played any more were those of the mind. _Fuck it. Why not?_ What could she possibly ask him that would be too revealing? Even so, he was a very good liar. “Fine.”

“Okay.” She got up from the chair and moved to sit on the sofa. “Come sit by me.”

“Why?” 

“I wanna be able to see your eyes, so I can tell if you're lying or not.”

He moved from his own chair and sat down beside her and she pulled her legs up so that her knees were bent and she was facing him. “Is that better?” he asked.

“Perfect. Now who should go first?”

“I'll be the guinea pig, why not?”

“Okay, Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Wuss.”

“Why?”

“Truth is the safe way to go.”

“Is it?” He stared into her blue eyes, challenging her to disagree. 

She looked away quickly. “Fine...lemme think.” She fiddled with her necklace for a moment, running the little golden heart back and forth across the chain, before an idea dawned on her and her attention snapped back to his face. “I heard you got into a bad fight with my uncle over my mother when you guys were around my age and he totally kicked your ass. Is it true?”

“It's true,” Petyr admitted but ‘kicked his ass’ wasn't the phrase he'd use to describe it. “He nearly killed me.” She hadn't asked that but he offered the knowledge anyway though he wasn't sure why.

“Yeah...I think I heard you have a huge scar across your chest. Is that true?”

Petyr grinned and shook his head. “It's your turn now, not mine. Truth or Dare?”

“Um...truth, I guess.”

“Is it true that you're only dating Joffrey Baratheon because his family is famous and he's the most desired boy in the world?”

Her chin dropped open. “No. No, never. Joffrey’s... he's…”

“He's what?” Everyone knew the kid was a prick and he watched her stumble to find something nice to say about him. She couldn't. Sansa was the girl who wanted to date the cutest and most popular boy in school, even if that boy was an asshole. She would imagine he'd fall hopelessly in love with her and change his ways. She was young and selfish, unrealistically idealistic. He knew exactly who she was because he had once been the same person, mistaking infatuation for love. “You're a bad liar, Sansa.”

She was about to object when all of the lights went out and they were left in complete darkness. They had been so busy with their little game that neither of them had noticed that the winds outside were howling, the rain beating against the windows. If Petyr had bothered to keep a television on he would have known where the storm was but had decided early on that he wasn't going to get wrapped up into the hysteria. It was coming and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

“Do you think the lights will come back on?” Sansa asked. As if in answer to her question a gust of wind hit the front door and rattled it.

“I don't think so. Stay here, I'll go get some candles.”

Petyr left her alone on the sofa, using the light from his cellphone to guide him to the kitchen. He grabbed a few candles from the cabinet above the stove, a flashlight, and a bottle of wine. Why not? There was nothing else to do. He found the corkscrew in a drawer and returned to the living room to sit the candles on the coffee table. In this case it was a lucky thing he smoked because it meant he always had a lighter in his pocket. Once they were lit a soft glow enveloped he and Sansa and he noticed the uneasiness on her face as he sat back down beside her. 

“You ok?” he asked. 

“Yeah. The wind...it's so loud. The whistling is kinda creepy.”

“I don't mind but I grew up in a rainy, windy area. I actually find it rather comforting.”

“Really?”

“Mmm.” He popped the cork on the bottle of wine and drank straight from the bottle, passing it to Sansa after.

“But...I’m not old enough.”

“Close enough. Don't pretend you’ve never drank before, I'm not stupid and I may look old but I used to be a teenager too. Besides, it might help you relax.” She smiled, a sweet innocent smile, and Petyr felt the corner of his mouth twitch to match. Her fingers brushed his as she took the bottle. 

“So...do you wanna finish playing the game?” she asked after a hearty swig. 

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, it was your turn. Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.” He was suddenly feeling a bit adventurous. What could she possibly dare him to do in their current circumstances anyway?

“I dare you to take off your shirt...and undershirt if you're wearing one.”

Petyr wasn't sure what to say for a moment. It definitely wasn't the dare he seen coming. “Why?”

“Does it matter why? I dared you to.”

He grabbed the wine bottle from her and took a long draught before sitting it on the table. He wasn't particularly shy, no it wasn't that, he just didn't really want to show her the long scar that stretched from his collar bone to his navel and he was almost certain that's why she wanted him shirtless. 

“Just remember,” he said as he began to unbutton the top buttons of his shirt. “Paybacks are a bitch.” She raised her eyebrows at him challengingly. _Little girl, don't get in over your head._ He finished with the buttons of his shirt and shrugged it off, then pulled the white T-shirt he wore under it over his head and watched as her eyes widened in shock. 

“Oh my God...I had- I didn't know-”

“It's fine. It's been healed for a long, long time.”

She reached towards him and instinctively he grabbed her wrist before her fingers made contact with the raised pink flesh, causing her to flinch. He hadn't meant to grab her too roughly or hurt her, it was just a reflex. Nevertheless, he held onto her. In truth he very much liked the idea of her tiny fingers roaming his bare chest. “I believe it's your turn.”  
Her blue eyes locked onto his in surprise. _Has she already forgotten we were playing a game?_

“Um...yeah. I pick truth.”

Petyr released his grip on her wrist and she pulled her arm back against her chest. For a moment he just looked at her, noting that all her usual cockiness had seemed to fade after realizing that he could hurt her if he wished to. Sansa was a tall girl, exactly the same height as Petyr, and she sauntered around in front him as though she was untouchable, unattainable, but now she surely realized that though he was not a big man, neither in height or stature, he was still a man and he could still pin her down if he so desired. 

What truth could he ask her to break her down? To put her in her place? A devilish grin spread out across his face. Sex. She clearly loved the attention her beautiful, young body got her but if he knew anything about teenagers it was that they hated being reminded of their sexual inexperience and inferiority. They had the bodies of adults but were still children and tended to get quite defensive when one reminded them of that. “Alright, I have a question for you. Are you still a virgin?” 

In the dim light of the candles he could just barely make out the blush spreading across her cheeks. “No. No way, I have a boyfriend.”

Petyr couldn't contain a light laugh. “You're lying.”

“No. I'm not. I've done it tons of times.”

“Oh? What's your favorite position?”

She shook her head. “It's not my turn anymore.” 

“I wasn't asking a Truth, I was just asking.”

“It's _your_ turn,” she insisted, still avoiding the question. 

It didn't matter. He could always tell when people were lying, he had learned to note the signs. Lack of eye contact, fidgeting, a twitch of their lips. She was exhibiting all of these. “Fine. Truth.”

Sansa took a deep breath and bit her bottom lip. “Do you...did you...um…”

“Come on...out with it.” 

“Do you like looking at me?” she asked, avoiding his gaze. “I've seen you look at me.”

Petyr felt a flutter in the pit of his stomach. “I recall. And you called me a pervert.”

“I didn't mean it,” she said softly, shaking her head. “Not really. It's just what everyone else says when an old-I mean...older guy looks at a teenage girl.”

“You meant old.”

“No. I mean that's what other people say but _I_ don't think you're old.” This was certainly a turn of events. For once, not at all what he was expecting. “If I told my friends they would think it was creepy and gross because you're my uncle but...I kind of like it when you look at me.”

He felt the first throb of arousal shoot straight to his cock. “I'm not your uncle through blood,” he quickly reminded her. She finally looked into his eyes and hers looked so innocent and vulnerable that he began to feel an ache. 

“So...you still haven't answered. Do you like to? Ya know...look at me?”

If he said no he would be lying but he couldn't bring himself to lie to her, not with the fear of rejection written all over her face. “Yes, sweetheart, I do. Very much.”

A sweet smile played on her lips, followed by another blush. “It's my turn now.” She was embarrassed and trying to move away from the topic now but Petyr's curiosity was peaked. If she liked him looking at her, what else might she like?

“Truth or Dare?” 

“Truth.”

“Do you ever look at me?”

“I'm looking at you right now.”

“You know what I mean, Sweetling.” He was taking a gamble, he knew, just because she enjoyed the attention of him lusting after her did not mean the feeling was mutual but there was only one way to find out. “Do you find me attractive?” He was a good looking man, he knew, thin and lean with dark hair greying at the temples and sides but teenagers were usually attracted to other teenagers. 

“Yeah...I guess I do,” she admitted. 

Her confession sent another jolt through Petyr and he felt his cock beginning to harden in his pants. Every sane part of him screamed to end their little game immediately before he completely sexually frustrated himself but the part of him that didn't care said keep going. “Truth,” he answered before she even had time to ask the question. 

“Have you ever thought about...like...doing things to me?”

Was he imagining it or had she scooted closer to him? There was hardly room to breathe between them, with her knees still bent her shins just barely grazed his thigh. “Yes.”

“What kinds of things?”

His heart was racing now. “Things you’re too young to hear about.”

“I'm not too young. I think about things too.”

“Oh? What kinds of things?” Had she too imagined her legs over his shoulders as he pumped into her? Had she rubbed her little virgin pussy with her fingers while picturing it was his tongue instead?

“You were supposed to answer first, it's your turn.”

Petyr turned his body more, to face hers, and whilst doing so took the opportunity to place his hand on her bare leg. She wiggled a bit but didn't shake him off. Her skin was so very soft and supple and he couldn't stop himself from gently rubbing his fingers over her. “Do you want to know if I've thought about kissing you?” he asked.

“Yes... and anything else.”

“You wanna know if I've imagined fucking you.” She nodded, biting that kissable bottom lip of hers again. “Yes and yes.” His hand seemed to have a mind of its own, moving around her leg and up to the inside of her thigh. Her skin was even softer there. His cock, now hard and throbbing, was straining against his pants. “What have you imagined, sweetheart?”

“I- I um…” Her face was flushed and her voice sounded strained as he continued running his fingers along the inside of her thigh. 

“Don't be shy.”

“I...imagined kissing you.”

“What else?”

“I've imagined you touching me.”

“Where?”

“Um…” her voice came out as a soft sigh. She was becoming aroused and the realization made his cock throb. 

“Truth or Dare, Sansa?”

“Dare,” she whispered and Petyr almost burst with excitement. 

“I dare you to let me kiss you.”

Her eyes met his, looking both uncertain and curious. “What about Aunt Lysa?”

“She's taken enough Xanax to knock out a bull. She's not going to wake up.”

“No I mean...don't you love her?”

He brought his hands to her face then, gently cupping and caressing the line of her jaw. “Not the way I love you.” In truth he didn't love Lysa at all. Did he love, Sansa? _Perhaps, I do._ But more than anything he wanted to taste her and he would say whatever he needed to achieve that. “May I kiss you?”

She barely had time to utter consent before Petyr leaned forward and captured her mouth with his own and her immediate sigh was music to his ears. He forced himself to move slowly, even though his body was alight with need, aching to take her fast and hard. She moved her lips against his with innocence and purity, until he could take it no more and darted his tongue out, willing her to open for him. When her lips parted he took his chance and slipped his tongue between them, softly stroking her her own. 

She was all softness and warmth and tasted of the wine they had just shared. When he moved a hand down the line of her neck she moaned into his mouth and her own hands found their way to his bare chest. Petyr was losing all sense of reason as he devoured her, his heart pounded against his chest, and his member had become and insistent, aching reminder of how badly he wanted her. When her thumb brushed across his nipple he hissed in a breath and broke their kiss, pulling just far away enough to search the deep blue pools of her eyes. 

“Uncle Petyr…”

“Yes?”

“I dare you to touch me.”

 _Oh fuck._ “I didn't choose dare, Sweetling.” He was toying with her, he would gladly touch her.

Her hands grabbed his waist, pulling him closer. “Uncle Petyr, please.”

Please was all it took for him to slip his hands under the hem of her shirt. He reclaimed her lips as his deft fingers found the clasp of her bra and had it loose in seconds. She moaned into his mouth when his hands cupped her breasts, a soft cry of ecstasy, and it took every ounce of Petyr's self control to go slowly. All of her little moans and sighs were going straight to his cock. When he found her nipples and began gently tweaking them between his fingers, she arched into him reflexively, her thighs spreading. He took the opportunity to get between them and push her back onto the sofa, pressing himself against her. He could feel the warmth radiating from her core, even through their layers of clothing, and was unable to stop himself from grinding his erection against her, relishing in the friction. 

Sansa broke their kiss and looked at him and Petyr felt stunned, as if being awakened from a trance. Her eyes were glazed and the blue even darker than before, although behind them was a tinge of worry. “What's wrong, Sweetling?”

“I lied earlier.” Her voice was a whisper. “About having done it before. I've never….never really done anything.”

He had known. Of course he had known but a part of him was hoping she would try to maintain the lie until the very end, until he was already buried deep inside her and felt how tight she was. What sort of monster would he be now, with it out in the open, to take this little girl's virginity on the sofa as his wife slept upstairs? “I know and we don't have to do anything, we can stop right now,” but even as he said it, he rocked his hips into her and began tracing kisses down her jaw until he reached that sweet spot just below. A monster indeed. 

A sharp intake of breath from her and a thrust back against him was enough to spur him on. One of his hands left her breasts and snaked down between them where he slowly eased his fingers under the waistband of her shorts and panties. “Mmhmm,” he moaned into her neck as he found her slit already slick with need. “So wet.” When he slipped a finger through her folds she whimpered and her hands went to his chest, clawing at the hair there. 

He moved his finger up and down her folds slowly, torturously, making sure to circle her little nub every time they were back at the top of her slit. Even without direct pressure she was already moaning and wiggling beneath him, her breathes quick and shallow. _Fuck, she's so wet._ He wanted nothing more than to yank her bottoms off and take her fast and rough, sink into her as far he could go, but waiting was a sweet kind of torture. 

“Do you want me to stop, Sansa?” He would, if she insisted, but he was trying to convince her otherwise.  
“Fuuuuck...no.” Her reply was strained, he couldn't believe how responsive she was to the slightest of touches. 

“Does your boyfriend make you feel like this?” he asked, as he began to fully rub her clit, applying more pressure. 

She bucked her hips against his hand as a strangled “No” escaped her lips. 

He continued to play with her breasts with one hand as his other worked her below and when he finally slipped his finger into her entrance he covered her mouth with his own, swallowing her cry. She was so tight, more than one finger was going to hurt her but he was going to try to make it as painless as possible. He fucked her with the one finger, making sure the bottom of his palm continuously rubbed on her nub, and she came undone beneath him. Writhing and bucking, one of her hands clawed at his bare side the other tangled in his hair. Petyr was enjoying every minute of it, even though he was sure his cock was about to burst out of his pants. He could almost cum from just watching her lose control.  
“Mm...p-p..” she was trying to say something against his mouth. He eased up a bit to allow. “Please…”

“Please, what?”

“Please...fas-faster...fuck...me.”

He grinned against her lips as he shifted his hand to slide another finger inside. He went slowly at first, stretching her, and she winced but didn't tell him to stop. After a few moments she began moaning again, soft whimpers of pleasure, so he picked up the pace. 

“Do you like that?” he whispered against her ear.

“Mmhmm.”

“Do you like the way Uncle Petyr fucks you?” She bucked wildly against him and he felt her walls beginning to contract. She was close. “Cum for me, Sweetling. Cum for Uncle Petyr.” As if his words alone willed it she moaned loudly, her back arched, and her inner walls gripped his fingers, pulling them even deeper as she came around them. Petyr gently nipped at her neck and massaged her breasts as she peaked and began to come down from her high, inwardly praying she wouldn't change her mind now that her initial need was sated. 

He decided he wouldn't give her time to. He pushed her shirt and bra up to reveal her naked breasts, beautiful pale mounds ripe for a feast and he dipped his head, taking each nipple into his mouth in turn. Her skin tasted like heaven, sweet and musty and entirely her own; he could have stayed between them forever but he had a more pressing matter at hand. She was already responding again, soft little mews and pants that were driving him mad with lust. He pulled up from her and hooked his fingers under the waistband of her bottoms, stilling for a moment to see if she would object. She didn't. She looked up at him with those innocent blue eyes, waiting, and closed her knees to make it easier for him to get them down. 

Without hesitation he pulled them down, tossing them carelessly across the room. Just as quickly he kicked off his shoes and pulled his own pants and boxers off, his cock springing forth, finally free of its constraints. He got back onto the sofa on his knees, placing a hand on each of her own and spreading them back open. 

“Jesus…” Her little cunt was so perfect and glistening in the light of the candles from her juices. _Just a taste._ Petyr looked to her face, her cheeks were burning with embarrassment and her eyes darted away from his own. Clearly no one had ever looked at her this way before but she had nothing to be ashamed of. She was perfection. He quickly dipped his head and ran his tongue up the length of her slit, resulting in a surprise gasp from her. He had never tasted anything so delicious in his life. He wanted to devour her for hours, make her exhausted with pleasure until her legs shook and she had to fight for air but he also desperately wanted to be inside her. He settled for a few laps with his tongue and a suckle at her clit before getting up and leaning over her, his cock nestling itself between her folds. Her wet heat caused him to buck against her. 

“Ooh,” she whimpered. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, bringing his face to her own. 

She nodded. “It looks big.”

 _It?_ His cock. He hadn't even noticed her looking at it but surely she had, it was likely the only one she had ever seen in person. “Thank you for stroking my ego, Sweetling, but it's not that big.”

“Can I...can I see it more? Can I touch it?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

He pulled his body up so she could look down between them where his member lay snug against her sex. He was rigidly hard and his head an angry red. Would she find it ugly? He watched as her tiny hand reached down and she ran her fingers along his length. “Mmm,” he moaned at the contact. 

“Does it feel good?”

“You have no idea.”

“I think I might now,” she replied with a sweet smile. “It's so soft but...so hard.”

Very slowly he began moving his hips, allowing himself to slide through her slit, and she watched with apt fascination until her head fell back and she whimpered from the friction. Petyr himself felt every nerve alighting in his body and he wasn't even inside her yet. “Are you ready?” he asked. 

“Yeah. Yeah I think I am.”

Petyr inwardly rejoiced as he pressed his chest down against hers and kissed her heartily and hungrily. She met his kiss with equal fervor as he took his cock in hand and aligned himself with her entrance. He gave a slight push and he felt her entire body tense beneath him. “Try to relax, Sweetling.”

She nodded but as he began pushing further in, stretching her all the way out, tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes. She was so tight, her body instinctively pushed back against the foreign intrusion, and Petyr had to give a few deep,h ard thrusts to break through that final barrier until he was all the way inside. He groaned at the sensation of finally being fully sheathed, his cock twitched within her and he knew if he wasn't careful he would cum far more quickly than he wanted to. He wouldn't normally have to worry about that sort of thing but she was so fucking tight and the anticipation had been building inside him for far longer than that night.

She was shaking, crying, and he cupped her face gently kissing away the tears. “Relax, the hard part is over now.”

He took her lips with his own as he began to slowly pull out and push back in, a gentle, rhythmic rocking of his hips. As he did so, he placed one hand on her breast and the other he placed over where their bodies joined and began working at that tender, little nub. His body wanted so much more and he laboured his breathing, fighting the natural urge to start pounding into her. 

“Fuck...you feel so good, sweetheart.” She mewed at his words. “So wet...so tight around my cock.”

“Oooh.”

He could feel her body relaxing around him as he pushed in and out of her, could feel her getting wetter as he worked her clit. “Do you like the way my cock feels, Sweetling?”

“F-fuck...yes.”

He moved his hand from her breast and used it to prop himself up, allowing a new angle, allowing him to go deeper. “Do you like the way I talk to you?”

“Yeah...don't stop.” Her breaths were becoming quicker, her head rolled back against the arm of the sofa, her own hands replaced his and kneaded at her breasts. 

Petyr began to pick up the pace with each thrust. “Does my little girl like the way I fuck her?” She grinded against him at his words. “Ooh fuck...that's it. Such a good girl.”

Sweat broke out on his brow as he pumped into her. The sounds of their joining was intoxicating, the gush of her juices every time he thrust back in, the sound of his balls slapping against her ass. He wanted to keep talking to her but he was losing it. “Mmm...fuuuuck...so good.”

Finally she said it. “Faster.”

He wasted no time, his hips responding to her demand immediately and she began bucking up into him, meeting his thrusts. He wanted her to cum again so desperately but he wasn't going to last much longer at the new frantic, pace. His body collapsed on top of her and he hooked his arms underneath hers as he continuously moved his hips, deep and hard. “Your pussy feels so good,” he cooed, his lips now at her ear. “Cum for me.”

“Oh...oh, Petyr don't stop.” Her hands went to his head, pulling and yanking his hair but he didn't mind. 

“Mmm...of fuck baby I’m gonna cum.”

And he did, he couldn't stop it. Every nerve in his body lit up with pleasure as he went over the edge, tingling all the way to his toes, vision went white. He tried to pull out, he really did, but as soon as he came, she came too, and her walls gripped him, pulling him back in and milking him for his seed. 

“Oooh...oh fuuuuck,” he cried as his cock twitched and jerked inside her. 

For a few moments they laid there, their breathes evening out, minds clearing. When Petyr could think clearly again the dread of what had just happened ebbed its way into his mind. “Sansa...I'm so sorry,” he said, his voice muffled against her skin where his head was nestled in the crook of her neck. 

“Sorry for what?”

“I meant to pull out.”

“No, Petyr...it's okay. My mom put me on the pill cuz I have really bad periods. It helps.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Trust me. If not I definitely would have insisted on a condom.”

Relief spread through his body and he smiled into her neck. Finally he sat up where he could look at her and she blushed from the eye contact, biting her bottom lip. “You're beautiful.”

“No I'm not.”

“Stop. You know you are.” She shook her head, looking a bit sad and Petyr was taken aback. For someone who always acted so confident she surely didn't seem so now. “By the time I'm done with you you're going to believe me.”

“You're not done with me?”

“Not unless you want me to be.” She giggled and shook her head again, all innocence and vulnerability. 

“Well,” he said, moving a strand of hair away from her face and tucking it gingerly behind her ear. “This isn't at all how I expected this evening to go.”

“Me neither.”

For the first time in a while Petyr noticed the wind howling outside. “I completely forgot there was a hurricane going on outside.”

“What hurricane?”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her lips. Neither of them had moved yet and she didn't seem to mind. 

“I think this is definitely the way to ride out a storm,” she giggled against his lips. 

“Ride? I can show you how to _ride_ out the storm.” 

She laughed and ruffled his hair with her fingers and he was lost.


End file.
